( Saturday, March 31, 2007 )

Skillz

When I was in, oh, grade 3 or 4 I learned how to play the ukulele (in place of the recorder, thank Jesus). Our teacher taught us how to play the song Wipe Out--and with the ukulele behind our heads, no less. It was one of the crowning achievements of my young life. The little girls in the school yard were always whispering things to each other about me, like, "That boyee has some mad skills, yo!" Indeed, my ukulele skills had set me up to become the greatest pimp daddy that elementary playground had ever seen. Alas, at the end of that fateful year my family moved to B.C., where the ukulele had failed to catch on as a respectable musical instrument deserving of groupies. I eventually confined my little friend to storage, and watched as my "mad skills" faded away like the memories of my adoring fans.

After seeing the movie clip appended below, however, I am tempted to think the tables have turned once more in my favour. I must now seek out lessons to refresh what I have since lost, and again stir up the pheromones of the legions of ukulele appreciators awaiting my return to the music industry.

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( Tuesday, March 27, 2007 )

"Not My Gum-Drop Buttons!"

I baked cookies the other day, all by myself. I think that was my first time. Impressive, I know. 23 and baking cookies like some sort of self-sufficient adult. It's momentous, that's what it is. And they tasted good to boot. I even have friends lined up who will write short testimonials to that affect. For a small fee, sure, but they’ll write them.

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( Friday, March 23, 2007 )

Maybe the dingo ate your baby!

It's strange finding out the whole story of where certain sayings come from. It's interesting to see how they developed, and in a lot of cases, how they really mean something completely different than the way we use them.

Anyway, tonight I was watching an episode of Seinfeld, the one where Elaine says to a really annoying lady, "Maybe the dingo ate your baby!" And then I wondered, "I've heard that before but where in the heck does it come from?" I thought it might've been from a movie (that'd make a good line in the Godfather--"You talk about vengeance. Is vengeance going to bring your son back to you? Or my boy to me? A dingo ate your baby!"). But no! It's actually from a murder trial in Australia back in the 80's.

This exclamation (and its variant, "The dingo ate my baby!") became something of a pop culture catch-phrase for a short time in the 1990s, as evidenced by its appearance in the two most popular television shows of the decade, Seinfeld and The Simpsons. Audiences found it amusing for several reasons: the phrase is hilariously incongruous in almost all situations, the word "dingo" is kind of funny in and of itself, and the line is invariably delivered in an atrocious attempt at an Australian accent. Even as they laughed, many American viewers failed to realize that the phrase is a reference to the sensationalized Australian murder trial in which defendant Lindy Chamberlain claimed that her infant daughter had been mutilated and eaten by a wild dingo.

( Thursday, March 15, 2007 )

Pre-Post Special

( Monday, March 05, 2007 )

The Greatest Action Story Ever Told

I just saw this today, and thought it was funny enough to share. It's an old MadTV sketch, spoofing The Terminator (and it's even more funny now, considering Terminator-director James Cameron's new documentary about Jesus).

( Sunday, March 04, 2007 )

Oh, The Shame

We find a new reason, a new way of living and we breathe it in and try to dream again.--Cloud Room, ‘Hey Now Now’

I realize I missed my dutiful report last Sunday. I apologize. It was a weird day, and last week was a weird week. And by weird, I mean strange. And by strange, I mean not-normal. And by not-normal, I mean...actually, I don't know what I mean. It was what it was.

But I feel responsible for spreading the new words I learn. I didn't sleep at all last week as the weight of my guilt for not posting one haunted/taunted me. *Weeping* I can't live like that anymore. I just can't. So please, please, forgive me, and accept the following word as my peace offering.

As I have nothing else productive to say at this point, I would like to direct you to two websites:

1. Pandora.com. Since discovering it a few days ago, I've fallen somewhat in love with it. To use it much you have to register, and to register you need a U.S. zip code (if you don't have one, go here). But it's fantastic. Give it a name of a band or song you like, and it'll play songs for you that are similar. I've found some great new music already through this puppy.

2. Since moving to Ontario last summer, I've been going to this church called The Meeting House. It's an awesome church. I love it. I found out a little while ago that their sermons are all uploaded as podcasts, and last time I checked, they were in the top ranks of the Spiritual/Religious category on iTunes. They're really good, and I'd recommend them to anyone. Now, I'm the last person who'd willingly chose to listen to sermons in his spare time, but since being at this church I've been eating them up. I've been challenged in a lot of important ways, and forced to rethink a lot of stuff I used to just take for granted as basic beliefs. (I was just listening to July 23's, about Gideon and our obsession with "Christianized magic"...great stuff.)

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( Thursday, March 01, 2007 )

A quote I discovered on a piece of paper as I was sorting through a box of old things:

Our consciousness rarely registers the beginning of a growth within us any more than without us: there have been many circulations of the sap before we detect the smallest sign of the bud.